Mister Slender
by Kessie-Louise
Summary: Olivia Suri Siobahn had an imaginary friend that was always with her. She trusted Him. But trust can be broken, and friendships with your imagination can only mean you're insane...
1. Age 5: Drawing

**Olivia Suri Siobahn**

**Age 5**

. . .

The young girl drew on the paper with great interest. Her mother was in a separate room, cleaning the kitchen, but the sound of the radio rang loud and clear through the entire house. The girl tuned it out, however, being too engrossed in her newest drawing project.

She couldn't forget that he was black all over. Except for his face; it was pure white. She'd have to distinguish the outline with a gray crayon.

The girl continued to work diligently, humming a little to her mother's outdated, yet played religiously, albums. That was when she heard that noise. It was the noise that meant He was near. It sounded like the static feedback when the TV cable was out, but it was soft; like a cat purring. She trusted that sound, because she trusted Him. He had always been there for her, even when she didn't want Him. But that was what made Him so special.

"I'm drawing you today." she told Him. "I'll make sure to get it right this time. You'll stay and watch me, won't you?"

He gave her a response in a way that only she could sense, and she smiled.

"I want to write your name." the little girl decided several minutes later. "How did you spell it again?"

She could feel Him guide her hand, forming the words that spelled out his name.

M-I-S-T-E-R S-M

The girl looked at the letters and smiled.

"Mister SM." she read. "I like it."

He did not answer her, in fact, she could no longer sense His presence anymore. It made her rather sad, but she knew He would be back. He always came back.

The little girl looked at her now completed drawing and smiled at it. She hoped that she had done some justice on His portrait. With this sense of accomplishment, she ran to her mother.

"Momma!" the little girl shouted, "Look at what I drew!"

Her mother, however, could not hear her over top of the radio as the woman scrubbed the kitchen sink.

_Some of them want to use you;_

_Some of them want to get used by you._

_Some of them want to abuse you;_

_Some of them want to be abused..._

"Momma!" the girl shouted louder. But still, her mother could not hear her, and was instead bumping her hips side to side with the beat. The girl looked over at the radio, then at her mother. There was more than one way to get her mother's attention...

_Sweet dreams are made of these;_

_Who am I to disagree?_

_I traveled the world and seven seas;_

_Everybody's looking for something._

The girl pulled up a chair to the counter that had the radio on it. Carefully, the girl tried to reach the radio in an attempt to shut it off. She was in such close proximity to the radio that she didn't notice the purring static that came when He was around. Suddenly, the chair moved away from her feet, and the little girl let out a surprised scream. Instantly, her mother turned around, saw the danger, and quickly reached her daughter before she fell to the floor. The little girl was stunned for a moment as her mother set her on the ground safely, then shut off the radio.

"Honey, you know better than to do that." her mother said. "You could have been hurt."

The girl did not respond however, she was stood in a daze. Her mother seemed to not notice this, and saw the girl's drawing in her hand.

"What do you have there sweetie?" her mother then asked, reaching down to take the drawing. When her mother saw it, however, her face grew pale.

The drawing depicted a faceless man in a black suit covered in blood. Four or five bodies lined the ground around the man, each in their own pool of blood. The bodies did not have names assigned to them, but the man did, and it was the fact that the man had a name that made the girl's mother tremble in fear.

The little girl was still in a daze, not caring or noticing her mother's reaction to her drawing.

That was the first time He tried to hurt her. And starting that day, it wasn't going to be the last time either.


	2. Age 8: Strangled

**Olivia Suri Siobahn**

**Age 8**

. . .

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" classmates cheered as she held Kate Milens in a choke hold.

"He... is... real!" she thundered, tightening her grip on Kate's neck.

"No... he..." Kate croaked, being held so tightly that she couldn't even finish her sentence.

"He is! And one day he'll hunt you down and kill you!"

At this point, Kate was starting to slip in and out of consciousness. It was also when a teacher decided to come in and actually take notice of what was happening.

"Olivia!" the teacher shouted in surprise and anger, "Get off of Kate NOW!"

She did nothing of the sort, and started to hold Kate tighter. The teacher reacted to this by going over to the girls and forcefully tried to get them apart. She bit the teacher without a second thought, she bit onto him hard enough that it broke the skin. The teacher let out a screech of surprise and pain, and punched her in the mouth as hard as he could. This broke her trance, and she fell back onto the ground in a daze. Kate's body slumped to the ground and the teacher forgot the pain in his arm to check Kate.

She looked on dully and swayed a bit. What just happened?

. . .

"What else do you remember Olivia?" the school counselor asked, taking another sip of his coffee. She refused to look him in the eye and said nothing.

She had already told him what she could easily remember. But what she couldn't say was likely the part that would solve everything... but it would also be the part that he wouldn't believe either.

She had heard Static before she blacked out. It was His Static, the Static she had recognized all her life that it meant that He was near. But he wasn't, apparently, or she blacked out before she could see Him. She wanted to see Him though; Kate was full of shit, declared it as bravery, and knew it. And boy, did she want to prove it to Kate that He was real. She didn't mean to strangle Kate though, but she couldn't remember doing such a thing to begin with. According to her teachers and several classmates, she had though, and now she was sitting in the counselor's office with nothing else to say that he would believe.

"If that is all you have to say for yourself," the counselor started to say, getting up, "Then it is time for you to leave. I'll see you again tomorrow."

She nodded and started to head out the door.

When she got home, she heard the Static. It was buzzing, like angry bees. She could sense His presence, although she expected to black out again, she didn't.

"You did something to me today... didn't you?" she asked the air, looking in the direction where she could feel his presence the most.

Although he did not speak, she knew his reply.

"I wanted Kate to know about you, but I didn't want to hurt her..." she told Him, shifting a little.

He gave another response. She looked down.

"Why didn't you just show yourself to her? If you want to meet her face to face, why didn't you do it today instead of using me?"

Again, He gave her an answer.

"Do you... do you like Kate?" she asked in a whisper.

He gave an odd response, and she could feel something against her forehead as if He had kissed her there gently. She did not like that feeling because she did not trust it. She didn't trust Him.


	3. Age 11: Parapsychology

**Olivia Suri Siobahn**

**Age 11**

. . .

Help. Her mother said that she needed 'help.'

Bullshit.

She wasn't allowed to say it out loud, but she knew it was the word that described the nonsense her mother deemed was right.

"Olivia... what a pretty name." Mr Nate said to her. "Would you mind if I called you Liv, or do you want me to just stay with Olivia?"

She refused to look at him, she barely wanted to acknowledge him in any degree. Mr Nate was a parapsychologist. Her mother had hired him to help find out what kind of freaky paranormal abilities she had. But she didn't have any abilities, it was all Him.

"Your mother has told me that you can 'sense' an object in another room without knowing it was there beforehand. She told me that you seem to know that it was going to harm someone, even if no other force was acting on it. Is this correct?"

She looked up at him darkly, and nodded.

"Your mother also mentioned that you can see past events. You have seen a lot of murders... haven't you?"

She nodded again, this time, refusing to look at him.

She could see the murders. They had all been done by Him. She didn't need a parapsychologist, she just needed a psychologist.

"These drawings I have here that you made when you were younger," Mr Nate continued, "They tell me that an entity is connected to you. Is he the one that shows you these things, like the murders and the objects in other rooms?"

She nodded and shrugged at the same time. She assumed He was the one behind it all, but then again, she knew how He worked in other people. What He was possibly doing to her was odd, to say the least, it was not at all how He normally operated.

"Can you control this entity?" Mr Nate asked her in a whisper, getting closer as well. She shook her head.

"Is he benevolent?" Mr Nate asked, this time much, much quieter. She looked up at Mr Nate, gave him a look that read 'what kind of dumb question is that?' and shook her head.

"Is he... here?" Mr Nate asked again, his voice so soft it took her a minute to realize what he had said. He was terrified, for whatever reason, she could not see why.

"He's always here." she said in a low tone that she hoped would scare him. "He sees everything."

Apparently, she was scaring him in some degree because he decided to adjust his collar a little after she said this.

"He knows that you're scared of Him, and He knows that you are trying to find a way to prove He is real. But He also knows that you don't want to be scared of Him, and He knows that you don't want to know that He is real. Is this correct?"

Mr Nate did not answer her, and instead, he trembled. It was a reaction that she found that she sickeningly enjoyed. Then she heard the Static that signaled His presence. Mr Nate looked at something behind her and looked as if he had seen a ghost.

"We want to play a game with you." she said in a low tone that almost didn't sound like her own voice. Mr Nate shook his head in fear and backed away.

"Out." he squeaked. "Get out!"

She shrugged and got up to leave. But He stayed behind, but Mr Nate did not know this. She shut the door behind her and waited for Mr Nate's high pitched scream as He scared the wits out of the parapsychologist. She waited until his screams died down to walk back into the room. She saw Mr Nate laying lifelessly on his desk. For a moment, she just stared at the man. It was too late to do anything to save him, and He knew that.

She could sense Him tell her something, but was tuning Him out to a degree. Knowing she was ignoring Him, He set off an alarm that sent Mr Nate's secretary into the room. The secretary gasped and quickly went back out to dial 9-1-1.

But it was too late, there was nothing anyone could do for Mr Nate now.


	4. Age 14: Kiss

**Liv Siobahn**

**Age 14**

. . .

She stared at herself in the mirror. She turned her head side to side, admiring, in part, her Asian cheekbones that complimented her Indian nose. Her caramel skin was something that some people would have made leather out of, and her silky dark brown, almost black, hair fell onto her shoulders and covered her face with no real sense of orientation. Today, she was wearing a simple gray dress with black leggings. She wasn't wearing any shoes because she did not plan on going any where today. Some where in the background, some song by Ron Browz played on her stereo.

"If you were mortal, would you think that I'm... pretty?" she asked Him, knowing full well He was with her. He was annoyed that she knew He was there, because He knew she was going to ask Him that.

His answer, like so many of the ones He gave her, was ambiguous.

She pushed aside his remark and looked back on her reflection. She then arranged her hair in a way that it fell over her face some more, and she stared down at her reflection. The result made her look terrifying, but hauntingly beautiful at the same time. She let her shoulders slack and she took a deep breath out before beginning to recite a book she had read some time before by an author called Julie Hearn;

"_I never meant it to end the way it did. Grace might have done, but not me. Grace was fifteen, as artful as a snake, and already on the slippery slope to Hell. But I, Patience Madden, could have stopped at any time-uncrossed by eyes, made my arms and legs be still, and called a halt to the filthy words jumping out of my mouth like toads. I could have spat the pins from under my tongue and admitted they came not from the Devil, but from the cherrywood box our mother kept tiny things in._

_She promised me I would not have to behave like this for much longer. In a day or so, she said, we would stage our recovery. Wake up all smiles, ready to put on our itchy bonnets and do our tiresome chores, like good, obedient girls._

_A few days more, she said, and our lives would go back to normal. As dull as sum, but blameless._

_It did not happen like that. It went too far._

_We went to far."_

She looked back on herself in the mirror. She had said all of this in the most tiresome and dull voice she could give; as if she had been beaten down by an angry mob many times before giving the account. It was her acting ability that was never shown or given the light of day because of Him.

She blamed Him for a lot of things, but in reality, most of it was her own fault.

She pushed her hair back, making her face prominent again, and looked back at herself in the mirror. There, in a sudden vision, she saw Him. She jumped back from the mirror in surprise and shock, but when she turned around, He was no longer there. Or at least, He wasn't there physically. She could still sense Him in the room, but she had never seen Him physically before. She looked back at the mirror.

"You told me you would never show me what you looked like." she said. "I know what happens to people who see you..."

Again, an answer was given that was and wasn't.

"You weren't my friend," she muttered, "You're a monster..."

She could feel Him come closer after she said this. She closed her eyes, accepting the punishment of whatever He was going to do to her for speaking out. But there wasn't pain. He did nothing to her. Instead, she received a feeling of being kissed on her forehead. He hadn't done such a thing in years, why start again now?

"Why?" she asked softly. "Why can you not kill me like the others? What holds you back? I'm not different, for as long as I've known you, I should be dead."

He gave her His answer, and she could feel His presence go away. She smirked a little.

She was beginning to think His kisses were not to give her assurance or as a sign of affection.

It marked her as His.

She was dead either way.


	5. Age 17: Courtroom

**Olivia Siobahn**

**Age 17**

. . .

"All rise for the honorable Judge White."

She, along with the rest of the court, stood up as the judge took his seat.

"The court is now in session for the trial of the homicide of the late Eric Surge."

"Your honor," the lawyer opposing her said almost immediately, "I would like to call the only witness to the stand, Miss Olivia Siobahn."

"You do understand, Mister Matheson, that this is not how the court is normally dealt with."

"I do your honor."

"Then you may continue."

The lawyer looked over at her and motioned for her to come to the stand. With no other choice, she got up and sat in the chair ungracefully. Wearily, she looked at the lawyer with disinterest.

"Miss Olivia, what do you remember about the murder of Eric Surge?"

"Nothing."

The lawyer raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing?" he asked her.

"Nothing."

The lawyer nodded his head, then turned his attention to the jury.

"As you can see, this... persistent child refuses to speak about the murder of Mr Surge. For whatever reason, I tell you must be because she found a sort of adrenaline rush when completing the deed. She is the only witness, and she is the murderer."

"What evidence do you have to prove this Mister Matheson?" the judge asked. The lawyer went to his briefcase on the table and pulled out a few old pictures.

"May I present to the jury, pictures that Miss Siobahn drew when she was younger. I'm sure a few of you have studied signs of early childhood mentalities of serial killers. Do they remind you of anything?"

She said nothing from the stand, only trained her eyes forward at the door. She knew she wasn't going to walk out of here today without handcuffs on, she could feel it. Then she heard the Static.

He was here, and He wasn't happy.

"What do you have to say about these drawings Miss Siobahn?" the lawyer then asked, turning his attention to her.

"He's here." she whispered in a way that sent a chill up many spines. "And He isn't happy with you Charles Matheson. He knows why you're mad... He knows you believe... What He does not know is why you are bringing it out on me...?"

The lawyer looked at her.

"You're sick! You know nothing about..."

"Daddy, help me!" she then said, cutting him off, perfectly imitating a boy around the age of thirteen, "He has me... I smell smoke Daddy, help me! Help me!"

The lawyer looked at her with wide eyes and fear.

Suddenly, a loud screeching sounded through the courtroom. Almost everyone bent down to cover their ears, except for the lawyer and herself. The lawyer looked at something near her and grew pale.

"No..." the man said, backing away in horror. "It can't be..."

"It is." she said, her tone of voice sounding as if two voices were speaking at once. The lawyer continued to back away.

"Poor Daddy is a-weeping, a-weeping, a-weeping," she started to sing mindlessly, "Poor Daddy is a-weeping on a dark winter day... He's weeping for a dead one, a dead one, a dead one. He's weeping for a dead one on a dark winter day."

The screeching died down and the court resumed. But the lawyer lay on the ground, just barely hanging onto his consciousness. She was still at the stand, not quite lucid herself.

He was happy.


	6. Age 20: Farewell

**Olivia**

**Age 20**

. . .

"It's been a year since she's been here."

"I know, isn't it amazing?"

"How is that amazing?"

"Her mind... how tortured it seems... It's so... beautiful."

"Crackhead."

Had it only been a year? Finally incarcerated into a mental hospital, there she sat on dull padding. She was curled up into a ball, smirking.

"This was your plan for me all along, wasn't it?" she asked the air. "You truly are a monster."

She heard the Static, then she sensed his reply.

"You're not done with me yet? Is that so? Does it have something to do with that Kate creature?"

His answer was as clear as dense fog. She gave an impatient huff.

"You told me you'd get me out the day I arrived, and now it's been a whole fucking year. How much longer do you want me to wait, thinking that you come to make fun of me?"

His answer was long and dissatisfying.

"That Kate you keep bringing up; why didn't you just kill the bitch when I was eight?"

His answer was short, but He wasn't angry at her, much to her surprise.  
"A Proxy?" she asked, almost surprised, "You're going to use undead slaves to get me out of here? Are you more fucking insane than what they think I am?! What are you going to do; Give me some sort of control over them? What's the point?"

He told her what He wanted to tell her at this point. She smirked.

"Well, we'll always have the woods." she said in a rather a rather nasty tone. She felt Him come closer, then the sensation of Him kissing her on the forehead. She smirked again, almost boarding a smile.

"I hate you."


End file.
